The Ginger and the Genius
by Solemn Vocation
Summary: A Romione fanfic. Been dying to do one for ages. Read if you dare, but pardon the fluff. Sometimes I just can't help myself.
1. Chapter 1

The Genius and the Ginger

A Hermione/Ron FanFic

_**It's destiny, fate, meant to be- Ron and Hermione together forever. However you want to put it, from the moment she stepped into his train compartment, Ronald Weasley fell in love with Hermione Granger. You can shy away from it, but you cannot hide. This is the truth, which we all must face.**_

_**I've researched Romione moments throughout the books, and I have written down all the references. Don't like the pairing, don't read, it's as simple as that. I would prefer all honesty in the reviews, but please don't bash simply for the fun of it. **_

_**DISCLAIMER: I certainly do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. The story you are about to read is merely my imagination at work. **_

The Wedding

Take a deep breath, I told myself. It's not like you're studying for an exam or something. This isn't a test. I calmed down a bit at that, but then lost control and thought again. Who are you kidding? This is the best day of your life. Screw it up and you die.

Ron's always told me that I think too much. I've always punched him or made some sarcastic remark, but today, I agreed. My mind was going wild. What if I tripped and ruined my dress? Said 'I don't' instead of what I really felt? Kissed him too wildly in front of the crowd, or ran screaming from the Church right this instant?

I caught a glimpse of flaming red hair and breathed a sigh of relief. Dearest Ginny, here to save me from myself.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, relax, will you? That prat doesn't deserve you, and it's him we have to worry about. He'll have done something stupid within the first minute of the ceremony." I laughed and practically tackled my maid-of-honor. Ginevra Weasley was indeed my best friend, and I was glad to have her with me.

Ginny pulled back from my freakish embrace and looked me up and down. "God, you look gorgeous. I can't even fathom looking like that on my wedding day." "Oh, please, I don't look all that," I rolled my eyes, but smiled thanks. She dragged me over to a mirror. "Thank you, but I believe you do," she fussed, pointing at a girl standing before us. She was wearing a filmy white dress, with thin lacey straps and a full but plain skirt. Basically, she looked like Cinderella, only with loose brown curls instead of blonde ones.

"Told you so," Ginny whispered, and I realized in that moment that the girl in front of us was me, Hermione Jean Granger, soon to be…

"Weasley, get over here, we're starting!" From behind them, Parvati Patil was furiously shaking a lily bouquet in the air above her head, beckoning for Ginny, who was irritably stomping over there in her lilac dress. Luna and Parvati were the bridesmaids.

I bit my lip. The moment was coming. I would soon be the wife of… "Hermione, the ceremony is starting. You should hurry. The snorkacks love to nibble on the toes of hovering brides," Luna called. I felt my eyes widen and I rushed over to the traditional place of a new bride- her father's side. I don't know why I was worried about snorkacks, being that they were entirely fictional (at least, as far as I was concerned), but my stomach fluttered as I gripped my father's arm.

He, of course, didn't notice. He still wasn't quite the same ever since I repealed the memory charm. At times, I believe he still thought he was Wendell Wilkins. Ordinarily I would have been slightly offended, but I didn't even notice his distance then. I was too worked up, worrying about snorkacks and getting married.

The music started, but my heart stopped. The procession began, and I started to hyperventilate. All of a sudden, I felt a hand on my arm. I looked up, and my father was smiling down at me. "Ready?" he asked. In that moment, I summoned up enough courage to control myself and smile back. That moment was one that I would cherish in my later years.

And we were off. I carefully paced my steps, and my father did surprisingly well. We didn't stumble or trip even once. He was cheery and all smiles as we walked down the aisle, which I was pleased about, because I myself was nearer to tears than I had been all day. I put up a grin and managed to present all those who caught my eye with a grin. Mrs. Weasley was bawling already, but my mother stood tall and resolute. I had never seen her shed a single tear in all my life, so I didn't expect her to today.

All the family was there, all our friends. It lovely. The Church was decked out with flowers everywhere, and the jolly old priest who would be giving us our vows perfected the picture. I looked over at Harry and smiled. Almost began to laugh, he looked. I didn't blame him. This scenario was a little funny, since it was finally happening. But I was incapable of laughing at this point, for as my eyes left Harry, I saw him.

My soon-to-be husband. Gosh, how long had I waited for this moment? Too long; but he would be all mine in a few minutes. Mine to keep and hold, love and cherish, until death do us part…

The whole congregation was staring at me, and I realized that I'd been daydreaming through the whole first part of the ceremony. I flushed and looked anxiously around the crowd, but then caught another glimpse of his eyes and firmly told the priest, "I do."

The vows were repeated for my dearest, and when he said, "I do," my heart fluttered. He really did love me. After all those quarrels, sarcastic remarks, my bossy nature and his pig-headedness, he still loved me. The priest announced us husband and wife, and Ron Weasley kissed me.

The crowd cheered. Clapping and tears, smiles and concealed emotions, I saw it all amidst our family and friends. We descended the stairs hand in hand and made our way outside, where we apparated to the reception, to be alone for a few minutes before everyone came.

It was at the Burrow, so there were plenty of places in which to get some quality time. He carried me up to his bedroom and set me on the bed, then made sure the door was locked and sat on a chair near me. His face was cradled in his hands.

"Ron, what's wrong?" I asked. He looked up at me, and I saw tears glistening in his eyes. "I can't believe it," he muttered. I was in utter shock. "You can't believe we're really married, that's what you mean?" I asked. He nodded and gave a little smile. I was about to cry too when he squeezed my hand and whispered, "We did it. We finally did it. After all these years, you're finally mine." I threw myself onto his shoulder and really did cry then, but tears of joy. He held me, but after a few minutes of hysterics forced me off of him and laughed. "God, Hermione, don't spoil your makeup. Mum will be here shortly, and if you're flawed in any way, she'll never forgive you."

We apparated to the entrance hall and waited until we heard George announce us. Then we ran out into the front yard holding hands and showing our toothy grins. Applause came, along with cheers, and then the real fun started. We danced.

Under the moonlight, to "You and Me" by a Muggle band called Lifehouse. I loved Muggle music, and Ron was only happy to oblige once he learned the lyrics. I could have sworn he was singing them softly as we twirled around, but the moment was so perfect, I didn't feel like asking.

After our dance, my father came out. I thought it would be a sentimental moment, but once the music started, I knew I would never dance a solemn dance with my father. "Everybody Dance Now" was not very romantic, or solemn. He did the robot, the jerk, and many other popular dances in front of everyone, and soon everyone joined. The next serious song came when Ron danced with his sister and I with Harry.

"It's about time," he said quietly. I laughed. "I agree," I assented. "Too long have I waited." Harry smirked. "That bloke's really lucky." I smiled tenderly. "You know, so is Ginny." Before another word could be exchanged between us, we were interrupted by Ron and Ginny, who had come to steal away their rightful partners.

It was a blessed night, one that I hoped would never end, because it was being shared with my husband, my Ronald Weasley.

**R&R if you wish. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I behold the next part of my tale. **

The First One

"Ron, wake up." I jostled his shoulder. He responded with a snort and a rolling over in bed. I winced and smacked his back. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, unless you want your clean bedsheets soiled, I suggest you had better wake up and get me to the fireplace," I loudly announced. Ron moaned. "Hermione, the bathroom's right there," he muttered, pulling the sheet over his head. I clutched the bedpost and screamed.

"RON!" "WHAT?" He was awake now, fully, and sitting up, an expression of grave irritation on his face. "I'M GOING TO HAVE A BABY, YOU IDIOT!" I screamed, feeling very frustrated. "Oh," he replied, slowly getting out of bed and tousling his hair. I gave him a look, and then he finally got it. "OH! OH, MY GOD!" He threw on a bathrobe, shoes, and switched on the light, and then picked me up and carried me to the fireplace. I wondered how on earth he could carry a pregnant woman, but then again, he was a Weasley.

I remember nothing of the trip by floo powder, and only a vague memory do I have of the hospital entrance. Ron, shrieking that 'it was coming any minute,' running down the halls, being pursued by various nurses and finally admitted into a room. I recall nothing of its interior, or of the doctor, because that's when the pain overtook me, and I became delirious.

Ron has told me many times that he never left my side, that he held my hand even when he felt I might stop the circulation of blood, that he cried as the screams grew wilder, that after my darling Rose Ginevra was born he feared I might pass on, that our daughter was also concerned and remained so quiet throughout the ordeal that the nurse thought her to be dead. But I recall nothing.

Nothing at all, save the insanity of Ronald Weasley.

**R&R if you feel the need.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we are.**

His Father's Eyes

"Daddy?" "What, Rose?" "Mommy's having a tantrum." "What do you mean?" "I mean she's screaming and crying on the couch. Did you spank her too hard?"

The scenario was much the same, except that my little daughter accompanied us to the hospital. Unlike my first birth, however, I remember much. Ron, dragging along tiny Rose whilst pushing me in a wheelchair he'd snatched from the entrance, barking mad orders at the nurses on duty, sending Rose to the children's play pen while he insisted on helping the doctor deliver the child, because obviously 'the bloke had no freaking idea what the bloody hell he was doing.' I remember holding my baby Hugo Potter and commenting that he had his father's beautiful blue eyes.

The beautiful, sparkling blue eyes of Ronald Weasley.

**Yep. R&R time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Slight humor side, at least I think, of this tale. Something my own father would do.**

A Father's Love

"Ron, hurry up, we don't want Rose to be late catching her train!" I called to my husband, who was once again dawdling. My daughter, Rose, was set to leave for Ireland with her 'friend' Scorpius Malfoy on a business venture. She was a scientist for the Ministry and studied various creatures. Dragons, mostly. Scorpius was an auror, and he claimed that the Irish were having some really terrible problems with rogue wizards, but I knew he just wanted to spend some time with Rosie. He had always fancied her.

Hugo was leaving as well, but he to Hogwarts. It was his last year at that blessed school. Next year, he'd be off to training with his Uncle George on how to help run the shop. I'd always been rather hopeful he might take a noteworthy career, but he'd always been a prankster, great chums with his cousin Fred, and together they would take over the wacky Weasley store when George and Lee were through.

The old cuckoo clock my parents had gifted me with long ago chimed the hour, and I stomped over to the stairs and called, "Ronald!" I heard a loud crash and bang in response, as well as a lot of crude language. My children burst into laughter, although I was not amused. "Coming dear," came a sheepish response, finally. I led the procession to our chimney, and as my dear husband came running down the stairs dressed well except for pink bunny slippers, I tossed the floo powder down, and didn't bother to alert him.

Rose embraced us and scurried onto her train. We waved her off, tears glistening in our eyes as our little girl left the safety of our arms and into the waiting ones of science. And a Malfoy, which Ron wasn't too pleased about. But there was not much time to grieve, for Hugo's train was preparing to leave directly.

We caught up with Harry and Ginny, who were sending their last child off to her final year at Hogwarts. Lily Luna had grown into a beautiful girl. Many boys fawned over her, but most of all Seamus Finnigan's son, Patrick. It was wonderful to be reunited with all our old friends, but I felt sad that our children were all grown up and we were getting older. Harry's hair was turning from jet black to grey, and his beard showed hints of white in it. Ginny was getting pudgy like her mum, and the dimples on her cheeks were turning to wrinkles. Thankfully, I wasn't showing too many signs of age, but I knew they were coming. Ron, however, was getting auburn hair and a beard that he refused to shave.

I was glad when we were finally home again, but I soon grew upset at the silence. Ron noticed, and stopped his game of chess with the sofa to sit beside me where I knit at the kitchen table. "Hermione," he whispered. I nuzzled his shoulder and began to cry. "They're gone, Ron. They're not ever going to run about and play knights and dragons anymore. Hugo won't sit up late into the night, crying about monsters in his closet, and Rose won't complain that every boy she sees has cooties. They're grown up."

Ron was vibrating. I thought he might be sharing my grief, but no. When I looked at him, he was laughing. "Hermione, don't cry, please. Look at it this way: our son isn't a wimp like he was for years, and our daughter had gotten her head screwed on straight. And you don't have to worry about little resource consumers raiding your closet and stealing your galleons to buy magazines and candy."

Such is the logic of Ronald Weasley.

**It's that time again (R&R).**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dunno if this is a tear-jerker or not. Enjoy either way.**

The End of all Things Bright and Beautiful

"Mione," he murmured, stirring from his long slumber. The medical equipment beeped from the corner of the room. I bent over his restless form. "Ron, I'm right here," I whispered. He stopped writhing and sighed with relief. "Mione's here," he assured himself. I chuckled. "Yes," I replied, "She's right here."

Ron had contracted a strange disease while we were on holiday. We'd been celebrating our 60th wedding anniversary. I never saw it coming. He'd been so energetic and happy, and then on our final night of celebration, he'd collapsed on the floor of our hotel. The 85-year-old man lying on the bed before me didn't have a very good chance of surviving for much longer. I was dying with him, but from the inside, of a broken heart.

The beeping commenced again, and I winced as it picked up pace, though only by a little. Ron was fading. I could feel it.

Apparently, so could he. His eyes fluttered open, and he turned his head to look at me. "Hello, 'Mione," he said softly, smiling at me. I beamed back. "Hello, Ron. Lovely nap?" His nostrils exhaled, which I took to mean he laughed. "Oh, yeah. I had a cool dream, too."

"What was it about?" I asked curiously, taking his hand and intertwining our fingers. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. "You," he answered.

I thought about answering that with a sarcastic comment, like, "It's always about me," or "That's nothing too interesting, dear," but I stopped myself. Here was this man, who had loved me for over half a century, and in his last moments he was confessing that love. I had no right to sneeze at it like I had been jokingly doing for sixty years.

He blinked his eyes. "Well, this is it then, isn't it?" I couldn't answer that. I looked away. How can you tell someone that they're dying? That they're not going to survive the day, let alone the hour? He did that nose thing again. "Don't look so sad, Mione. It isn't the end of the world." My head snapped back to look him in the face. "That's not true, Ronald Weasley. You are my world."

He closed his eyes and relaxed his head on the pillow with the biggest smile on his face. Even bigger than the one on our wedding day so many years ago. "I love you Mione. See you on the other side," he said then. Tears ran down my wrinkled cheeks, and I knew the end had come. "I love you Ron Weasley. Wait for me, okay?"

His head nodded once, and then the machine stopped altogether. So did the life of Ronald Weasley.

**R&R.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Enjoy my irony.**

A Letter from a Rose

My mother didn't last much longer than my father. She spent the next week preparing his funeral and taking care of putting the affairs in order. She sold the house and distributed the items in it, and then went to stay with my Aunt Ginny. Uncle Harry had passed on several years earlier.

Even with my dear Aunt Ginny, my mother couldn't take it. She passed away peacefully in her sleep only a few days after she'd moved in. We'd all expected it. It was only a matter of time before her heart disintegrated into dust.

My brother and his family didn't want to go through my mother's things right away. They were too upset by her loss to want to deal with such a thing. I was shaken, but I knew I had to go through Hermione Granger's things, just to see how much of her story I could piece together.

If you want to know their story, read the books my daughter Joanne Kathleen has written. To keep the story from being prejudiced, she based it on her great-uncle Harry's life instead, but my parents have major roles in the books. I was shocked to realize just how a ginger and a genius came to fall in love, but it all seemed to fit in place once all the facts were lined up.

I miss them utterly, but I know it was their time to go. My mother and father have a beautiful future ahead of them. They are in love everlasting in the hands of God.

When I meet up with them one day, Scorpius by my side, I hope to tell them how much I cherished them on Earth, and how proud I was to be the daughter of Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

**Well? How'd I do with my first story in several months?**


End file.
